


Of vows and rituals

by FixaIdea



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 04:59:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17718515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FixaIdea/pseuds/FixaIdea
Summary: When Feuilly asks Combeferre to 'witness' something for him, he agrees without hesitation, even though he has exactly zero idea what he just signed up for.





	Of vows and rituals

**Author's Note:**

> A little sequel to 'The Ring'.

This was possibly the strangest day of Combeferre’s life. The chain of bizarre event started about a week ago when Feuilly, flustered and so nervous his hands visibly shook with it, sidled up to him and asked him to be his witness, since, as he put it ’he already knew’. Combeferre readily agreed to help out Feuilly in whatever he needed, but before he could ask what exactly it was, he ’already knew’ their other friends started to file into the room and Feuilly quickly retreated.

The subject was never brought up again, and between his studies and his obligations to the ABC Combeferre forgot about it entirely.

The next strange occurrence was when, a couple of days later an unusually timid, blushing Enjolras asked him for a private meeting at his flat. Combeferre, of course, agreed. It did not even occur to him that the two things might be connected until he turned up on the specified day and date at Enjolras’ flat.

Enjolras, Feuilly and Courfeyrac were all there, all dressed in their best – Feuilly even had his kippah on. Combeferre in comparison was seriously underdressed – not shabby, but nothing special either – but nobody seemed to mind. The living room was rather strangely decorated: they hung up two clothes lines and put some sort of nicely embroidered sheet over them, so it formed a kind of indoors tent.

‘All here!’ said Courfeyrac, clapping his hands ‘We might as well get started!’

Combeferre had no idea what was expected of him, but it turned out merely standing to the side in silence sufficed just fine. Enjolras and Feuilly clasped hands and stood under the makeshift canopy. Courfeyrac pulled up a sheet of paper and started to recite what sounded very much like wedding wows, though not specific to any denomination Combeferre could think of. Courfeyrac was obviously deeply invested in his role, and so were the two ‘grooms’. They answered Courfeyrac’s questions and repeated their lines dutifully, deep emotion clearly written on their faces.

Combeferre followed the proceedings with interest, though he was mildly shocked when the two actually kissed. Not even just a symbolic peck on the mouth, no – they kissed with the tender passion of actual lovers. Combeferre could have sworn tongues were involved. When they broke apart, they remained standing there, first pressing their brows together, whispering to each other, then hugging, gently weeping into each other’s shoulders. Courfeyrac in the background was dabbing at his eyes and loudly blowing his nose. Combeferre, though still confused, blinked away a few stray tears of his own – it was hard not to get caught up in the emotion of the moment.

When Enjolras and Feuilly finally released each other Courfeyrac clapped and called for drinks with a loud whoop. He pressed a glass of fine wine into the hands of Combeferre and the blushing, smiling couple and raised his own in toast.

A bottle of wine and about an hour of amicable chatter later they cleared away the tent and left the ‘newlyweds’ to their business.

On their way home, Courfeyrac was still beaming from ear to ear. It took Combeferre a good ten minutes to work up the nerves and finally turn to him.

‘Pray tell… what was all that about?’

Courfeyrac shrugged.

‘Of course, they can’t ever get officially married, but they still wanted some formal way to declare their love and devotion. Would you begrudge them that? They aren’t hurting anyone.’

Combeferre blinked.

‘Oh. OH! So that’s what it was! A wedding!’

‘Well obviously.’

‘No need for that tone’ Combeferre bristled ‘Listen, if I told you I thought it was some bizarre symbolic ceremony to represent the union of the middle and working class in their shared struggle and solidarity, can you, in all honesty, look me in the eye and tell me you would put it past either of them?’

‘…’

‘My point exactly.’


End file.
